


Malcolm's Journal

by Willowflower_Waterlily



Series: Ghosts and Guilt (Leandra Bethany Hawke, series 1) [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:32:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowflower_Waterlily/pseuds/Willowflower_Waterlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric brings Leandra some of her father's belongings, including his journal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dismounting his pony, Varric looks around. The house seems to be well maintained, as well as a small garden. It had been larger, the ground still scarred from where planks had been set down. Letting his pony graze in the grass, he unties a small chest from the back of his saddle.

Varric thinks about calling to the house, but decides that it isn’t worth it. It could give Leandra the chance to take off, or worse to get her sword. Varric isn’t as young or quick as he used to be, and he’d rather not get cut in half by his best friend’s daughter. Walking into the house, he sets the chest down on the table and waits.

 

Entering the kitchen, Leandra spots a small chest on the table that hadn’t been there before. It’s blue and gold and has a label with her father’s name on it. She delicately traces the letters, fighting back tears as she does.

“It’s a chest he had in Kirkwall, all that was left of his life in Lothering.” Leandra turns to face Varric, her hand moving to the hilt of her sword. “Now, now, there’s no need for that. I just came here to give you what I had of your father’s belongings.”

Leandra eyes Varric suspiciously. She knows that he never just shows up out of the blue. “Why bring it to me, and why now?”

“I went to Skyhold first, figuring that you and your siblings would all be there.” Varric closes his eyes, pinching his nose. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. His friends had the life they wanted, away from the dangers on the Inquisition, but it caught up with them anyway. Now their children are suffering the consequences. “Your brother said I should bring it to you, that you were always the closest with your father.”

“Listen, I’m not here to drag you anywhere, or to convince you that you need to not isolate yourself. I understand the need to push everyone away.” Varric reaches into his bag, pulling out a leather bound book. “All I ask is that you read your father’s journal. You and he are very much alike. I think he would want you to.”

Leandra reaches for the book, ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t read it yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to, but I’ll keep it safe.” Carefully setting her father’s journal on the table beside the chest, Leandra presses her hand against the cover, imagining her father writing in it. Leandra hastily wipes her tears away, before moving her gaze from the worn leather of the book to Varric. She stares at him for a moment, before walking away, not looking back to see if he’s following.

 

Varric follows closely behind Leandra, watching her struggle with her emotions. He doesn’t notice when they’ve entered the clearing until he sees her kneel in front of a small triangle stone, set on a mound covered in dried flowers. Watching Leandra trace the H on the stone, the expression on her face makes Varric feel as though he had been punched in the gut. The pain in her eyes was almost too much to bear just watching it, but to live with it all alone. He reaches out to touch Leandra’s arm, to let her know she doesn’t have to be alone, but her voice stops him.

“I love you daddy.” Leandra whispers, tears shinning in her eyes. She brings her fingers to her lips then presses them against the gravestone. Without looking at Varric, she stands and leaves him to stare after her.

 

Leandra reaches the house before glancing behind her. Satisfied that Varric didn’t follow, she walks into the house. Entering the kitchen, tears come unbidden to her eyes when she sees her father’s things on the table. Opening the chest, Leandra gently places the journal inside and closes it again. Carefully picking it up, she carries it up to her parents’ room, placing it in their closet. Leandra knows she’ll never be able to read her father’s words without the pain of her failure piercing her heart like a dagger. She hopes that someday one of her siblings will find the chest and its contents.  


	2. Chapter 2

_Mother is right. It is my fault Carver died. I should have charged the ogre before he got the chance to. I need to look after mother and Bethany. It’s the least I can do to honor Carver’s death. I need to be strong for them, regardless of the guilt I bear. Aveline’s help is more appreciated than I think she knows. I’ll have to make sure she knows._

_Varric and the others try to keep my occupied, but when I’m alone all I can think about is Bethany’s death. Her skin and eyes tainted by the blight, and that I had to kill her. I pray that mother never finds out. It was my fault. I should have insisted that she stay with mother, but I let her come with us because she wanted to. She would have been better off in the circle. I bought mother’s childhood home, but nothing will ever make up for the twins dying._

_My friends have been dragging me out more and more, and I almost think they’re bickering more just so I’ll feel useful. It seems like I’m the only one who can keep things civil between them all._

_Mother, I’m so sorry. I should have been home more than I was. If I had been, maybe I would have been here when the flowers arrived. Maybe I could have walked with her when she went to visit Gamlen. My family is all gone now, were it not for my friends and Gamlen, I would be all alone. If it were not for them, I would isolate myself, but they make me get out and help people. I love them for it. My heart still aches as though father’s, mother's, and the twins’ deaths all just happened, but my friends help ease the pain some. If I can do good in Kirkwall, maybe I can spare other people from having to feel the same pain._

_How did I not see through Anders before? All those innocent people he killed, or died because of his actions. I should have seen the warning signs and prevented it. The blood is on my hands too. As well as Anders’s blood. I couldn’t let him live when he had killed all those people, and he had asked for me to do it. He was my friend, a brother to me. The pain I feel from having to execute him, and deaths of all of the innocents is unbearable some days. If it were not for Isabela and Varric, I don’t know where I would be. Perhaps I would not be…_

_I can’t think like that. I know I shouldn’t, but all those poor people. I can still see their bodies laying in the street, their blood like rivers slowly flowing toward the docks. Isabela’s calling, I should help with the ship work._


End file.
